Triumph of the phantom
by LittleMeg
Summary: What happend after the mob entered Eriks domain? Is this the end of the story or just the beginning? And what about Don Juan Triumphant?
1. Prologue

So here it it is... My Phic in the english transaltion.. so please feel free to correct any language mistake I made for I fear there will be a lot ;-) : 

**Prolog 1925**

It was cold. The sun had already disappeared when the cab stopped in front of the ruins of the estate. Raoul hadn't spoken a word on the way there and the young priest had done the same. It was strange to return to this place again after such long time. He almost thought to hear her as she called in the house after him. Although his memories still let lively pictures appear befor his inner eye, it seemed that eternity separated him from these events nevertheless. He wished that also he had ended his journey now.

The estate looked as old as he felt. Old and left. And a little sad. For many years the Chateau stood emptily, in the past, he had rented it out for some time, later than used it where he spent the summer months, if it was unbearably rainy in London. But withour her this place seemed incomplete, as incomplete like everything was without her.

How often had he driven with the equipage over the white gravel of which withered bushes proliferated now? As lovely and fairytale, this estate had looked once. She had called it a fairytale castle. How much he missed her, Christine, his angel!

The reddish light of the breaking evening lent the balcony which once has been hers as strange gleam. Here and there pale spots darted over the weathered façade of the chateau, when the waves threw the last sun beams on it, reflected from the surface of the near lake.

His hand clung on the arms of his wheelchair, when his look was falling lovingly on the bed in which he had had plant roses so many years ago. White roses always had been her favorite flowers and she had cared about the flowerbed herself. After more as forty years without care nothing had remained as a neglected grounding hill, on which the weeds proliferated. He sighed. It hurt him see what had become out of their home. And he was missing her.

Shaking the head he averted the look to the rusty bars of the court entry which was decorated by the family arms. His fingers were stiff of the damp cold of the rainy fall day and he twisted the face while he tried, get them off the armrests to turn to the young priest. Sébastien would take care of it, he thought confidently. He would let sent a letter to him in the evening, and then provide that somebody made this chateau what it had been before again. And he then would make this place available to other person, perhaps as a hotel. It would be a good hotel with an almost perfect location on the edge of Paris. He sighed deeply and watched the priest a while, who silently stood besides him and stared at the greenish lake. Christine and he had thought once, not for a long time, they could start a new life here till the nightmare had caught them up once more. But this had been 1881 and Raoul seemed old to himself by now.

He mentioned the hand of the priest closed around his shoulder and felt that the young man threw a worried smile to him. The boy who had accompanied him back to Paris. It had been his wish and Raoul hadn't been able to change his mind. However he had secretly been gratefully for not having to make this last visit alone.

"It is cold, Monsieur Le Comte,", the priest finally said and broke a silence that had been something almost sacred with that. "I think it is better if we go back to our hotel. You must have a rest before our journey back to London!"

Raoul winced. This boy treated him with a warmth and looked him after as if it would be his own son. He smiled sadly. A son ... Christine had treated him so. Every time when she had the feeling to neglect him. And he had treated Christine so, within the last hard weeks of her illness. Before his inner eye her pale face appeared in the white pillows, dark sad eyes smiling still full love despite everything, He remembered well that she had promised him never to leave him until the end -- to stay with him for ever. And then she had died far too young. He blinked an annoying tear from the eye and finally nodded at the priest, completely confused by this memory.

"You are right, I am not as young as you. I should stay no longer here outside around this time."

He actually didn't mind to spend some hours still here, but one more frequently forgot apparently the time in his age. He only had expressed the desire to see his old hunting lodge once again, and not to spend the complete evening there. And he hadn't even suspected that his short stay in Paris would whirl up so many memories. This day had indeed exerted him, exerted more than he would ever admit it. First this exhibition in the upper floor of the opera and his visit with Sébastien on the old family cemetery. Now this sight of his earlier home . completely neglected. He shook his head and allowed the priest top let off the brakes of the wheelchair and shoved him back over the white gravel with the many grasses which proliferated through it by now. He cast a last sad look at the Chateau, while the priest and the chauffeur raised him together into the cab, which finally should take them back to their hotel.

The priest didn't ask any questions. He had given up because he knew that it irritated the Comte. If he wanted to tell about his wife, then he did this normally unasked. The priest had learned from the strange occurrences also some time ago, that happened in at the Parisian opera. A disfigured genius had obtained the cellars of the opera house and blackmailed the management for money, interfered himself in occupation questions. This only happend because he desired a woman whom the Comte loved, Christine. The so called phantom of the opera kidnapped Christine on the end and threatened to kill Raoul if she doesn't decide in favor of a life with him. The priest couldn't understand why the Comte voluntarily went to an exhibition in the opera which had to be a place of the horror for him anyway, he had had finally to let his life almost that night over forty years ago. All the Priest knew, was that Raoul had survived only with the help of Christine. He admired the courage of this woman to touch and even to kiss a man like the phantom, to save only around the man whom she loved. This kiss had given the life to them both. He knew that Christine and Raoul escaped with a boat into freedom and that the mob found only the empty catacombs of the opera and destroyed everything at that time. He didn't know what had become of the phantom. Nevertheless it was sure that Raoul and Christine finally got married anyway and had a short but happy marriage.

He looked at the Comte. He had got old very old. In the past, nobody would have thought that this once could become of the man, the priest saw in front of himself: a collapsed, gray, sad man with a face furrowed by deep worry lines. When Christine died, he had lost everything overnight for which he had lived0. From this day he had got older. Older and with the time he got very ill, too. But he had remained unshakeable. The priest remembered that even the outbreak of the war hadn't filled him with consternation so deeply like the death of his wife. Already at this time the Comte had been bound to the wheelchair and for this reason nobody wanted to hear something from the graduate of the military academy anymore.

After some time they had arrived at the hotel. The priest took Raoul to his room and helped him to undress himself and to put on the bed. After he had put the rolled up poster of any opera he didn't know, next to Raoul, he wanted to leave the room but Raoul held him with an exceptionally solid handle at the arm and forced him to turn to him once more.

"Wait!"Raoul slowly solved his bony fingers of the arm of the priest. "Give it to me!"

The priest wrinkled the forehead and cast a doubting look at the object which the Comte indicated now. He would have been supposed to know Raoul well enough by now, to know how it would end. Since he could think Raoul collected everything, connected with the Opéra around 1881, the time his wife had sung there. He had fitted a whole room out, omly collecting keepsakes from his wife and her former opera career around there in his London apartment. This poster seemed to be only another achievement in the size rich collection of the Comte. Sometimes he had the feeling that Raoul looked for something , one special memory, and hasn't been able to find it till now. He shook the head. He should not care. All that mattered was to covince Raoul, that the Roman Catholic church was considered as the only dignified heir for the fortune of the last Chagny. He tried to get Raouls liking already for years and only this had been the reason to accompany the old man to Paris and to listen to all the confusing stories. Admitting, the history about this phantom had actually been interesting. But his time slipped away slowly. The Comte got old and still hadn't named any heir, as far as was known to him. Sighing finally he gripped into his coat bag and did what the comte had asked him for. With trembling hands he pulled the dirty, formerly white thing which the Comte hadn't wanted to give out since their visit at the Opéra.It was astonishing that everyone at the opera remembered Raoul after so many years and, what was even much more remarkable, they left the desired things to him at a really low price. As usually Raoul had wasted sums of money to buy old scenery parts, properties for operas and outfit parts, everything to remind him of his deceased wife. He seemed more stuckly on the opera than ever since her death. All earnings of this exhibition, organized to honor itsbuilder Charles Garnier who would have his one hundredth birthday celebrated this year, should befit a good purpose. Apart from a couple of posters, some sheets of music and old oufit parts which had been partial in a really pitiful condition, they sold old sheets of music. There had been nothing worth wasting all the money, the priest thought. And he had come from London with the Comte for all this. Thoughtfully te priest crinkled hies forehead and looked at the old man. With cold, trembling hands Raoul reached for the shapeless object and looked at it for a while.

"It is strange, isn't it? It is as if it would have been waiting for me all the years there below. One told me she has been found in 1907 when one locked the phonografic notes ", Raoul declared weakly. "Christine has often talked about it. Of it and of him ..."

The priest twitched with the shoulders. An outfit part, nothing more. Somebody had to have lost it there below and long time it must have been there in the dirt, untill finally somebody found it. Actually it was was in a really wretched condition and nobody seemed to have made the effort to clean it at least.

"This is quite certainly his mask... And this notes...," he indicated a single half torn sheet of paper, that lay besides him on the night cupboard, " this is Don Juans triumph. His opera... a real masterpiece which was never performed and disappeared with him."

The priest got closer and after a short hesitation he sat down on the edge of the comtes bed. His mask? His opera? How could Raoul be sure in such a way? He was old, his eyes weren't the best any more and between the events of that time and today were more than forty years. It could be any mask from the outfit fund... as well as it could be any score a singer has lost, ... the test of a musician to compose in his leisure time. After over forty years noboby could be sure to have found remains of the phantom of the opera. His look glided on the paper shred, because he couldn't find another way to describe the sheet, and recognized notes and text of a song on it. Forehead wrinkling he tries to decipher the text which had unusually been written in red ink with the hand. Perhaps this actually was a valuable original -- a unicum. He understood nothing of notes or music, nevertheless the passage which was still got well caught his eye:

_In the demon's talons_

_The Silence endlos swirls around me_

_Fear clasps my constrained soul_

_The silent language inside resounds_

_Thoughts - Silence speaks ..._

In his throat, he felt a strange burning, felt that he become nervous, all inside him longed to hear these notes... this music. He didn't know the aria -- he had no idea about operas and he wasn't interested in them either and nevertheless only the possibility which offered this music seemed to captivate him. He forcefully put the piece of paper from his hand again. "What was on so important to these remains paper to go to Paris for it?" Clearing himself, he turned his look towards Raoul.

"I quite don't understand why you seek his music. Haven't you been running away from him for all your life? And now you are pleased about an old piece of paper with notes and a mask which could be just as good out of any other old opera?" he asked irritatedly, about his own sudden curiosity to be able listen to this music. For this reason he really wasn't here now. "How can you be so sure? How can you be lucky after all you told me about this...man?" The priest shook doubtingly the head. Raoul had never talked about the phantom differently than of a monster.

Trembling the Comte touched his hand and pushed it gently.

"It was his life's work", he said confidently, " once he wanted that it is buried with him, but I couldn't fulfill this wish for him. He has written the opera for her, still before he knew her and I will bring what remains of it back to its right place now. He would have wanted it so. Christine has talked so often about Don Juan and I think she has regretted to have never performed it in front of an audience. I know this music and I won't be able to forget it. I hear it every day of my life since I have fled from Erik in this boat." The Comte ceased and looked at the mask. It hadn't changed. It still looked just the same as in that evening when he had already given up his life. Leather, covered with soft white fabric, which was teared at some corners now. Also it was been the victim of the time too, but it and this sheet of music were the only, what still remained of Erik's existence. Nobody should have the opportunity to hear this opera or even to publish it once again. No, not after everything what had happened.

"Erik... was the phantom?"the priest asked and tore Raoul apart from his thoughts.

"Yes, he was. But with the time I learned to mention him at his name, has Christine did." He sighed. "And this aria was the last I heard when we fled with the boat out of the catacombs. He sang it for Christine as a farewell. It resounded like a lament through the catacombs. I haven't heard it since then any more but my head has never forgotten it ... and Christine hasn't ... She has often sung it secretly when she thought I wouldn't get it. He called it 'Hellfire' . It has been sung by Christine only a single time on stage" His look got melancholy when he stroked the mask almost tenderly. But this could't be the thing he had looked for all the years.

The priest got up and stepped to the window. He opened the curtains and saw on the streets of Paris.

"She surely was like you. She has had the melody for all her life in the ear. I have heard that one can particularly intensively remember the worst minutes in his life."

The Comte shook the head.

"No, this wasn't so. It surely weren't the worst minutes in her life. She has missed Erik every single day of her life. And, if you actually think that Christine Erik has kissed to free me, I must disappoint you. She hasn't stopped up to her death loving him and I have needed a long time to see this. I still hear his lamenting voice ... singing this song"

The priest closed the curtains and turned away. He disliked to penetrate into the life of the Comte so deeply. In addition, he had made up his mind about Christine till now. This beautiful, young woman. What the Comte said now didn't fit in his ideas at all. But he didn't want to burden the Comte further and made movements to go.

"Please stay!" Raoul exclaimed.

"Monsieur Le Comte, I really wouldn't like you ... I think you really need rest now. The train goes tomorrow very early and the journey to England will get exhausting for you!"

"Be silent and sit down!"Raoul gave him roughly. "If I tell it to nobody today, I will never do it. I would like that somebody finally learns what has happened at that time."

The priest sat down once more. He knew that he should obey better. The Comte had developed the peculiarity to get very insulted if one didn't comply with his will. Well, who wanted to offend the one from whom the Roman Catholic church expected to achieve a considerable sum of money?

" I know, anyway what has happened at that time . ", he threw in weakly. If he was honest, he didn't even feel like listening to the experiences of the Comte for the repeated time, no matter who much it fascinated him.

But Raoul shook definingly his head.

"You know nothing! You have no idea what happened, after Christine and I had fled ..."

The Comte fetched a deep rattling breath once again and clenched his chest anxiously with the hand. He then started to tell the story which had heavily weighed on him so long. A story which was quite different than the priest had expected it.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_I am with you, also you are so distant_

_You are close to me!_

_The sun sinks, the stars shine for me soon._

_O if only you were there!_

_**Goethe**_

Two days passed peacefully after their flight out of the catacombs of the opera house. Christine didn't return to the opera any more and Raoul sent a servant who vacated her wardrobe. The managers were about to look for a substitute. Nobody who had learned or even were part of the events was still able to remain longer at this opera. In the reason Erik had made his threat true. He had ruined the opera after one hadn't been willing to obey his demands.

Raoul finally learned from his servant, that the mob had penetrated into Erik's empire and destroyed all his belongings. Erik had, however, never been found. Raoul moved into an alert presently. Sooner or later, if Erik wasn't dead, he would appear again. What had Christine said at that time?

_"If he finds me, it won't never end. He will always be there and sing for me." _

She was right, but at that time, he hadn't this wanted to admit actual.

Since Raoul worried about Christine's health, he sent after his family doctor who should examine the young woman. Although he knew that it wouldn't have suited his brother fine at all, he got a room ready for Christine in the Chateau de Chagny. Phillipe already had been no more in the chateau for some days and Raoul feared that he had succumbed to the charms of a ballerina.

The doctor ordered Christine to rest but she sank into a strange condition already after three days:

When Raoul entered her romm one morning, he caught her by covering all mirrors with dark cloths. He watched her confusedly a while without saying something. She didn't seem to notice him at all either. Like a mechanical apparatus she moved through the room, stopped in front of the great mirrorand hung one of the cloths over it.. She then kept to a moment as if she looks at her work or as if she would think intensive. Did she want to turn the spirits of the past off so? Raoul twitched helplessly with the shoulders and cleared its throat quietly. She hastily turned to him and looked with empty eyes at him so that he had to wonder whether she recognized him at all.

"What do you do there?" he asked her quietly without being able to completely hide his fright from her.

She looked at him only silently, however she didn't give him any answer. A strange feeling spread in his stomach region. He nervously started to play with his hands. "Can't you bear it, all these mirrors? Are you afraid he could appear in one of them and fetch you to his empire again?" He shuddered at the bare thought on it. Once had Erik carried her off by the mirror in her wardrobe which had been a kind of gate for him to the outside world. But what she did now, was absurd. Erik would never dare to appear at this place he had released them both after she had kissed him. They were free!

Gottenly he didn't let her from the eyes, let her complete her work, without stepping in. Perhaps it was actually better to send after the doctor once again. She had experienced terrible things and perhaps she needed help of a specialist to be able to process all the worse things.

When she had covered all mirrors, she turned away and dumbly took a seat on the armchair she had to stand in front of the big window. He followed her, however not daring to touch her. She seemed so far away as if she is caught in another world in which he didn't have place. And he felt too helpless too free her from it.

It smelled strangely musty in the room; a smell which he couldn't take to connection with Christine at all. She had apparently opened no more window for days already. All this somehow suddenly reminded him with a weird intensity of the catacombs of the opera... of Erik's empire. He had been there only one single time first a few days ago, Christine had spent many weeks there. There it had been dark too, the only mirror which there has been was coverd and it had smelled of mustiness. He shuddered and stepped briefly determinedly to the door which led to the little balcony. With a firm jerk he opened it. The similarity to the cellar vaults was fading at the same moment. He felt the bright daylight floating the room and a moment he was blinded. The fresh air of a winter's day streamed into the room and Raoul sucked her hungrily. The nightmare was past and he wouldn't allow that Christine lost herself in her anxious memories of what they both had experienced.

"If you would like to talk, I'll always be there for you." he said quietly and turned to her. She didn't react but stared past him through the window as if she would be not aware of his presence at all. He closed the eyes for a short moment, called himself to be quiet, forced himself to be patient with her. "I will now go into the salon and carry out the correspondence there. You don't know where my brother is by chance?"

She switched her head on slowly to him and looked at him with dull, uninterested eyes. A cold shower chased him over the back. He didn't know her like this... his Christine woul never look so insensitive.

"Isn't Phillipe back? He probably amuses himself with the Sorelli now. Hasn't he often used to go to her? Perhaps you should send Jean-Paul to the opera and let ask about him."Her voice didn't sound really worried. It was the politeness which pressed her to ask for his disappeared brother. This didn't astonish Raoul further, Christine had never really met his brother. Phillipe had declared itself strictly that his brother got engaged to a simple singer who didn't correspond to Raouls social stand at all. He also had refused to spend more time with her as necessary. Perhaps this would just have been good for their cool relationship.

What considerably more frightened him was her exceptionally soft and brittle voice, almost as that of an old woman. He knew she could sing like an angel -- who could it be that she suddenly croaked? He only hardly resisted the impulse to extend his hand and to feel her forehead. Perhaps she had illy . she would have been able to fetch the death in the damp cellars. He noticed her defiant look which stopped him to come closer to her in any way. It hurt him. Hadn't she assured him that she loved him, that she wanted to marry only him? Now she gave him the feeling to be not part of her.

Disappointed Raoul twitched with the shoulders and turned for going.

"Well, I should better send somebody to the opera and ask for Phillipe."He didn't mention that he had already done this three days ago and that nobody had been able to say something about the whereabouts Phillipes. Not even the Sorelli, at whom he had suspected his brother first of course.

"Please, leave me a little alone now, I would like to think!" she finally asked him and her sight made him so soft, that he left her room. Raoul didn't ask her about what she wanted to think, he didn't even allow himself this question. He also refused to think about what had happened for days, as he had only just come from it with the life. Only few moments had separated him before the sure death. If Christine wouldn't have been so selfless...

He thoughtfully strolled down the stairs of her room to the salon. To the photographs and paintings of his past ancestors. Since he had been a little boy, innumerable portraits decorated the walls next to the stairs, portraoist of people of whom he mostly didn't even know the half with names, although his private tutor had pressed him to learn them all by heart Some pictures still had arrived in the meantime. As far as he could remember his father and Philipe later provided that such a gallery could be found in every Chateaus of them. Perhaps his children also would look at the people on the portraits astonished one day, and Christine and he then would be immortalized also there. An almost cheering thought.

With some difficulties he imposed two photographs his parents. Count Phillibert, the tall man with the bright, blue eyes and the dimple in the chin, which he has inherited as the only one of the two Chagny sons. He had no memories of this man, who had raised him the first three years of his life. The count cared, like his oldest son later, lovingly about the latecomer of the family. Phillipe was at Raouls birth already twenty years, his two sisters Amélie and Héléne already were, "out of the worst" as Philibert used to say. When he died, the brother and sisters cared themselves for Raoul and when both sisters got married, Phillipe sent him into the care of a sister of his mother who lived by the sea.

Raoul closed the eyes and tried to remember that time in Brittany. There it had been where he had met Christine for the first time with fourteen years. She had lost her red scarf and he was the one, who had absolutely fearlessly jumped into the icy-cold sea to save the young girls garment.

Smiling he opened the door to the salon. Papers his brother would have for ordinary cared himself for stacked on the big heavy oak table and now during Phllipes absence this duty fell on him.

He looked at the stack with a wrinkled forehead a while. The absence of his brother somehow provided him with a strange feeling in the stomach region.

He sat down to have a look through the letters and answer. He had hardly started, it knocked at the salon door. He looked up. Jean-Paul, one of the oldest employee in the estate, who had already served in times of his father, entered in embarrassment. Something at his serious facial expression had Raoul strengthened. Normally Jean-Paul was the good mood in person.

"Pardon, Monsieur Le Vicomte.There is an employee of the Sûreté outside, who would like to talk to you. He says, it is urgent .", he added. Raoul put the papers aside. His stomach started presently to become cramped. Nervously he reached for his fountain-pen and let him glide by the fingers. The Sûreté... Theycertainly came to ask questions. Pictures appeared before of his inner eye. The phantom had never been found . . . the Punjablasso on the one knotty tree... the mirror chamber... Sweat appeared on his forehead and his fingers imploringly pinched himself around the fountain-pen as if he can protect him from the memories.

"Monsieur?"the manservant asked with a worried look and teared Raoul off his thoughts.

He shook the head and forced himself to a polite smile.

"Ask him in!"

Raoul thoughtfully put his forehead in folds. Perhaps there were other reasons which moved the Sûreté for coming. There had to be other reasons. He wanted to banish the name Erik from his house as fast as possible. He had to protect himself and Christine to live this nightmare of once again, if only to tell it to the security man. He had to protect her!

After a few minutes which the old Jean-Paul needed to cross the room, he finally entered with a man of middle age, unmistakable an employee of the Sûreté with the usual suit and mustache.

"Good morning, Monsieur Le Vicomte. I sorry heartily that I must annoy you and stop from your work at that time ".

Raoul twisted annoyedly the face. The usual set phrases. How often had this man already unreeled the sentences on this day? In addition, he burst almost with impatience. He wanted to end this meeting, or what it might be, as fast as possible. How he hated waiting: In addition, he feared to forget the words he had learned for this case, if the inspector takes too much longer, to tell him his reason to come.

"Indeed, you do, Monsieur l' inspecteur. I would be very obliged if you would come to the point fast."

The man nodded and Jean-Paul disappeared on a sign of Raoul without offering every visitor a tea as usual. It was an everywhere known peculiarity that the de Chagny, drunk and offered only tea in heir house. One had to obey and even as a guest a glass of water or port got served in the evening.

"Of course..." Nervously he minced from a leg on the other one and looked expectantly at the chair which was at the table in front of him . Raoul wrinkled the forehead. This behavior was absolutely outrageous.

"Sit down!" he finally invited him a little more brusquely than intended.

The man took hastily a seat. His look remained on the fountain-pen in Raouls hand for a moment. He smiled unsafely, immediately got serious again when Raoul cleared its throat and set the pin aside.

"I am really tense now, Monsieur. Is it all about my business or has the management of the opera himself complained because my fiancee hasn't handed in as stipulated in the contract? This would be though no reason for the Sûreté come to me, isn't it? Whatever, listen, the doctor has ordered my fiancee to rest. She really shouldn't be irritated."

The man shook the head.

"No, it isn't about your fiancee. But it is strange that you come to speak on the opera so fast. It is actually about it. My men have searched the catacombs of the opera until today around the existence of this man, calling himself the Phantom of the opera. He shall blackmailed the opera management a considerable sum of money and be responsible for the death of at least one employee of the opera staff."

Raoul clasped so tightly the armrests of his chair that his knuckles changed their color to white. Strainedly he bit himself on the teeth and not tried to show, how he disliked the mention of Erik. He tried to fend off the pictures which tried to come up inevitably, wanted to paralyze his thoughts and his behavior completely.

"In addition, one reproaches him for the kidnapping of a singer, your fiancee." the official continued while he was drawing his mustache with the forefinger, " we couldn't find the lowest trace of a living being apart from rats there below... But... "

"And how do you explain the whole occurrences yourself?" Raoul interrupted him annoyed, "I really would be interested in this, Monsieur!" He didn't have any desire for this kind of conversation now. Over their heads, there was a woman,the living proof of the existence of this crazy man, but he couldn't expect of her, that she faced these questions, again and again, which came to it at once anyway: Christine had not coped with the sudden success at the opera and got delusions. Perhaps this employee of the Sûréte expressed it this time a little differently.

The man watched his fingers and started to clean his glasses nervously. Apparently the time which Raoul had reckoned had come.

"We're talking here of an opera house. There are rivals, jealous people.. maybe this Buquet wanted to make money and has extorted the management. He was the one, who told this legend from the phantom first. When his extortion wanted to run no longer properly under the new management, he hung himself. --and what concerns your fiancees... forgive me, that I mention it now, but ...well she was properly always a little naive, if one may believe the stories of various employees. And the last time was well quite exhausting for her. It wasn't sudden easily to become the prima donna of the simple choir girl. This costs strength. Doesn't one have to have carried her of the stage once either because she was half unconscious?"

Raoul cracked and sparkled the man raging. How only could this man dare to say something like that? That was enough!

"What do you permit yourself! You want to tell me that my fiancee is crazy and everything happened only imaginarily? If this is everything, what you wanted to tell me, it is better you go presently before I forget myself and have you cast out!"

The man raised appeasing his arms.

"Monsieur, please. I haven't come actually therefore at all."He gripped into his coat bag and pulled a golden signet ring which he put out on the table. Just there, where Raoul had just moved his correspondence.

"I would like you to look at it. Do you know this ring?"

Raoul took the golden ring trembling into his hand. Of course he knew it. It was a heirloom and was bequeathed to the Comte de Chagny by generation to generation in his family. He turned pale.

"Where do you have the ring from?"

"So you know it?"the official would take carefully, after.

"He belonged to my brother. Where do you have it from?" Fear slowly spread in him. Cold sweat appeared on his forehead. Did this nightmare never end? In his head a muffled tapping started, which got louder and louder. He wouldn't be able to bear the presence of this man for a long time any more. He couldn't show any weakness, nobody would then believe him the story, he told everybody so frequently within the last few days. He strainedly stared at the man while his hands still were looking for something, that gave him hold.

"As mentioned already, we looked in the catacombs for the existence of this phantom. This morning a corpse was found on the shor of the underground lake." The man removed his uniform cap and looked Raoul into the eyes seriously. "I sorry have to inform you about it's obviously your brother, who, has drowned Monsieur le Vicomte. Can you perhaps explain to me what he had to look for there below? Nobody had access apart from the staff there."

That tapping in his head had reached an unbearable intensity now. Phillipe . dead?

"I don't know... he has looked for us... my family promotes this opera ... .. he has everywhere access.. . Christine and I were at the stables. We are to run there as the chandelier fell down... You know . she was so afread and I wanted to calm her. Phillipe has looked for us for certain ... perhaps he has frightened himself in front of the rat-catcher and gone ... ", Raoul stammered and could be fallen on the chair. He urgently hoped that this man believed him his lies. He hated lieing, but however, the truth probably would make everything only worse. So he told him the story which he told on recommendation of Christine and the Persian to everybody who asked where they had been at the chandelier accident. He buried the face in his hands. He could tell by no means that a lunatic had kidnapped his wife and he had followed him only around there to fall into the trap. Christine was not allowed to know that Erik still lived. If she tought that he was dead, she could forget perhaps with the time and everything would be as usually.

"Monsieur if you don't have any further questions, I then would ask you to go now."

The man got up and cast a pitying look at Raoul.

"Of course Monsieur. We will release you the corpse for the burial as soon as possible. I assume you wish to bury him here on the family cemetery?"

Raoul nodded intensely and suppressed sobs. The farewell set phrases of the inspector became blurred, the door which fell into the lock mixed inseparably with the blow for a muffled roaring in his head. He didn't look up once again. His brother was dead. Died in the empire of the phantom during Christine and he fought for thier lifes in the house at the lake. And more... nobody seemed to believe in the existence of the phantom any longer. Buquet should have been the phantom . simply ridiculous, drawing the memory to this lovable old stagehand through dirt.

"Monsieur le Vicomte? Aren't you well?"

Jean-Paul had unnoticedly entered again and saw gottenly now on his sir who spilled bitter tears on his correspondence.

"Bring me a Cognac, Jean-Paul! And don't be stingy!"

Jean-Paul opened the bar and poured the brownish liquid in a glass. He threw Raoul confused looks. It wasn't ususal that the young man took such strong alcoholic drinks particularly at this in the daytime.

"Shall I fetch Mademoiselle Daaé?"

Raoul cracked frightened. With fright the old servant dropped almost the glass for it, he had his sir just wanted to suffice.

"No!" exclaimed Raoul, " no, Jean-Paul, Mademoiselle Daaé may hear nothing from it. Listen, my brother had had an accident. He has drowned, therefore the Sûreté was there. But Mademoiselle Daaé may know nothing about it! She is still too ill and it would weakly irritate her too much. Take care that she learns nothing and let all necessary people for a burial come to me. But Christine may know nothing!"

Jean-Paul who looked just as horrified as Raoul felt - because he had accompanied the Chagny sons of child legs on - nodded, as deadened and disappeared.

He actually managed to conceal the events from Christine. But when Jean-Paul knocked only a day after the visit of the inspector and entered with a pale face to Raoul into the salon, he knew that his decision had been right.

"What do are you concerned about, Jean-Paul? Have you met a ghost?" A smile froze on Raouls present and he got up again to go to Jean-Paul.

" Monsieur Le Vi ., ". he broke off when his fault got conscious to him. The Comte de Chagny was dead now, there Phillipe, which didn't have any children, to which he could pass his title on, Raoul was it as of now which would bear the title of the Comte de Chagny. "Monsieur le Comte, we worry about Mademoiselle Daaé. She just called Louise and asked her to let all mirrors in her room remove. I thought we should tell you about it." The old man looked nervously and walked up an down.

Raoul inheriting easy. He ought to have reckoned that something like that would happen. He had Christine's wish given way and left her alone and this was the price which he had to pay now. He nodded.

"I will immediately look afer her. Many thanks, Jean-Paul!"

He left the salon and climbed the innumerable stairs up past until he arrived at the floor where the private rooms of his family were. He had had his room got ready for Christine and had moved to the bedroom of his parents which stood emptily since their death.

It was strange, to knock on the door of his own room and he didn't wait her to answer and entered at once. Christine sat at the window. A small stooped shape who unseeingly saw to outside. Had she noticed his coming at all?

"Christine?"

She was frightened and turned round. Her sight gave Raoul an icy-cold shower down his spine. Her dark hair was without gleam and fell strangely lifelessly on her shoulders. Dark rings had appeared under her eyes. As otherwise they shone, they were swelled up and reddened now as if she would have cried.

Raoul sighed and took her into the arms. She didn't reply his embrace, however.

"My angel, I am worried about you." he confessed her quietly.

She escaped from his arms and turned to the window again. Helplessly he stood besides her and looked around this room now. There where once had been the mirrors, were dark edges now. One would already have painted this room white again. Next to the desk opposite the window a hand mirror lay, the glass was shattered. It looked as if one would have flung him with very big strength against the wall. The bed on the right besides her hadn't apparently been made already for some time any more. And how? She declined any contact to him or the servants.

"There is nothing, Raoul. I am only tired!" Her voice sounded soft and weak. For the first time he recog that days had to have passed since she had sung last. He couldn't remember that this had been the case ever before. Christine had sung on every day of her life. When he got to know her on the beach of Perros, she had sung old Swedish folk songs, accompanied by her father on the violin. He had immediately fallen in love with her. She had been the woman with the biggest and most beautiful green eyes and with the most fascinating voice. He had never before and also not after her death met a woman who was just like her.

Annoyedly about the way to treat him, he turned round, went with quick steps to the door next to which the frame of the hand mirror lay and reached for him. Almost as fast he was again to Christine's side and held him to her in front of the face.

"Nothing, Christine? This is nothing? You are not well and I would like to help you. Why don't you say what I can do for you?"

Like on every day since the flight out of the catacombs, she wore black. The dark colore let her seem even more paler and more fragile.

"Please Raoul," she interrupted him and Raoul could discover the trace of a smile at her for the first time for days. "I don't need a doctor and I don't need company." She hesitated, turned her look to outside again. He was afraid that she would sink into this apathetic condition and react to none of his words now again. But she suddenly then turned to him again and a gleam which he had already almost forgotten lay in her eyes. It reminded him of the time in which there hadn't been a phantom separating them With these shining eyes she looked at him.

"Perhaps fresh air would do to me well. Yes, Raoul. Would you have a coach judged for me? I would like somuch to go to the cemetery. So long, I wasn't there and my father ... " She broke off and didn't speak further. A strange feeling came over Raoul to have her driven to the cemetery. For days she hadn't left this room any more and now she wanted to go to the place at which Erik had lain in wait for her only a couple of weeks ago.

"Christine, I don't know whether this would be really good in your condition . ". he threw in weakly. This lights in her eyes got weaker again and completely seemed to turn off. Perhaps she lost every feeling if he didn't give in to this single request. She only wanted to go to the grave of her father, so what? 'He has been there the last time', the spiteful voice repeated in him. He didn't succeed in taking the doubts to the silence.

"Well, but I will accompany you."For a short while he looked at her desperately, because now when everything was over, when they didn't have to live in fear anymore, she refsued him. Couldn't she simply smile, if only a litte bit, tell him how grateful she was that everything was over? Telling him how very much she loved him? Nothing, not even a smile since that night in the catacombs. He turned away and stepped from her room. He adhered the first maid that past his way roughly to the arm, so that she winced with frights. She had well reckoned with one of the other servants and so she forced herself to a relieved smile when she recognized her master.

"Monsieur Le Comte?"

He loosened his grip and forced himself to stay calm. This poor girl finally wasn't responsible for the fact that his fiancee refused him.

"Please forgive, I didn't want to frighten you. Please could you pass on to my coachman, that Mademoiselle Daaé and I like to make a small.. . excursion?" Everything in him refused. His inner voice advised him to haven't her driven. She better remained in this room, could be helped of a doctor and him, but to drive to a place which confronted her with the death and memories which could already bear her by no means. Perhaps evem he couldn't. But he had already expressed his order and the fear of refusing Christine her request was just as deep as the fear of having her gone .

The girl nodded and disappeared hastily.

Raoul watched her leaving and wrinkled the forehead. Possibly he was it, who didn't want to drive to the cemetery. There he surely would become victim of his gloomy thoughts again and he had to be strong for Christine. What should she think of him if he didn't cope with what he had experienced? How could he help her if he couldn't even help himself to forget? He shook the head and entered, this time without knocking, in Christine's room. She still sat on her place unchangedly and stared outside the window. With a sigh he stepped next to her.

"The coach will wait at once. Perhaps you should get dressed . ", he suggested. He started to play with his hands, only to do something.

Like into trance, she rose and passed by him without finding him worthy of only one look. Very slowly she opened the cupboard and gripped after a black cape and her black scarf. When she had dressed on both, she appeared to him like a ghost.

"Do you really have to accompany me?" she asked quietly. Her words gave him a sting in the chest. He had suspected that it didn't suit her fine that he accompanied her but he had hoped at least she wouldn't say it. He dreaded this place very much, but he wouldn't allow that she drove alone there.

He forcefully nodded and noticed for the first time, that she also had to have lost weight within the few days .

When they finally stopped in front of the gates of the cemetery, Christine asked Raoul to wait in the coach and to have her gone alone. Her pleading look made him softer than he wanted to be. He contradicted only timidly.

"Christine, I don't regard this as any good idea. I don't think that you are already well".

She got off the coach without seizing Raouls helping hand and looked at him. The pleading in her look had given way to a strangely hard, almost already cruel expression. Was this really the woman whom he loved since children's days?

"And I don't think that you are in the position, Raoul, making decisions for me! I am old enough to know when I do what alone!"

He sucked sharply the air and looked at Christine sadly . She had never spoken with him so. He looked at her forehead wrinkling, decided not to let her go to the cemetery alone as much as she might beseech him.

" But the last time you were here..." he ceased. He better didn't say what buzzed in his head

"Erik is dead!" she pushed out and sparkled angry at him.

Shaking the head he lowered the look. He hadn't hoped to hear the name Erik any more, after everything what had happened. He hatet it, when she mentioned him at the name and he hatet himself for this discussion, that he had given in, that he couldn't be harder and simply force her to take him along.

"He would have kidnapped you!" he reminded her despaired, " If I wouldn't have been ..."

"He then wouldn't have tried a second time to kill you. Buquet then would never have died, I then would be..." she broke off furiously and was annoyed that she had tried to explain what proceeded in her. But it was too late.

"Do you blame me for Buquets death? I would have found the underground empire anyway. Only that night Madame Giry and ..."

"The traitress" Christine threw in , "After everything Erik had done for her and Meg she would have better hold her tongue instead of telling Erik's secret. She didn't have the right to betray him to you or somebody otherwise. And you didn't have the right to interfere!"

Raoul had never experienced her so. She had said something like that to him never before. She was sudden like another person. Raoul didn't recognize her. It made him furious that she treated him so. After all what he had done to free her from her burden, she made him feel like he is the guilty person.

"If I wouldn't have interfered" he hissed quietly, in the hope of the coatchmen wouldn't hear everything because the public employees then would start to gossip undoubtedly behind his back, " he then surely would have hurt you. Then you weren't either free yet."

She shook the head. Your features changed. It almost seemed as if she must fight with herself to not burst into tears.

"I am sorry, Raoul." she finally said abashedly, " Forgive me... I.."

Raoul breathed a sigh of relief . Of course he knew that she was still shocked after all what had happened. Otherwise she would never have reacted so intensely and it was a good sign that she was apologizing now for that she hadn't processed the experiences yet . He would talk with her family doctor about it just afterward. He had had to promise him, that one took care of Christine all time, that he was called for any small change. This was obviously a matter which he had to discuss with him.

"I thought you would have understood. I am not free now either yet. I will be never freed from him. And nobody will be able to change this. Not you, not Madame Giry and also not any Persian who pretends to be our friend. It never ends!"

With these words she turned away and went by the gates of the cemetery. Alone.

Raoul stared undecided afterwards, then became conscious of the looks of his coachman and kicked furiously the gatepost of the cemetery. A quiet curse slipped from his mouth, not exactly something which would have been measured to his stand, and he finally sat down shaking the head on his place in the coach. He impatiently looked at the pocket watch which he had inherited from his grandfather. He gave her ten minutes, he then would follow her whether it was right or not.

The cemetery was left befor her eyes. Not a human soul had gone astray here. It seemed to extend far, framed by heavy iron bars, guarded by the eyes of stone angels. Christine pulled the heavy entrance which separated the graveyard from the street, shivering and entered the cemetery. With steps which are slow and almost shuffling she went on and looked around anxiously again and again. By the few light which fell by the surrounding trees on the cemetery this place seemed even much ghostlier to her. She eavesdropped into the twilight in: Calm! Raoul couldn't be seen, what she stated with a certain satisfaction. This should calm her. But nevertheless she winced with any small noise. Although it was still, she froze so strongly that she pulled her coat more tightly when she continued her way.

She knew the way. Not too long time ago she almost had gone him daily. On the grave of her father she had asked for the angel of the music, he had promised her before his death. He should train her voice. Suddenly there had been Erik's voice in her dressing-room and she had thought her prayers have been heard. At that time, how only would she have been supposed to know that this heavenly voice didn't belong to any heavenly nature?

The grave of her father lay hiddenly behind big trees. The stone was covered of ivy. Christine hoped the whole way, Raoul wouldn't follow her and he didn't do it. He was to much frightened about the things she said. She lit the candle on the grave and knelt down as if she would pray. But she didn't do this. She waited. And actually she heard the familiar sound of his voice after short time.

"You have actually come back!"

Her heart made a joyful hop but she didn't allow herself any smile. Slowly she turned and tried to agree on the direction his voice came from.

"You wrote you must see me."she said, into the emptiness. Her look finally got stuck on the trees not far from the grave. They were thick and dark enough to hide there. The shadow of these trees slowly took shape. It was Erik. In the poor light which fell by the crowns his shape seemed even darker and greater. His mask shone so unnaturally as if it wants to compete with the moon which appeared in the sky slowly. She looked at him with an open fascination. It wasn't only his voice for this one she moved to her spell again, his whole appearance let shudder her by its deep, familiar timbre. But she knew his secret. She knew which frights he hid behind his mask, to which this voice could deeds if he wanted it to. And these hands with the exceptionally long skinny fingers which had already rather used to remind her of the hand of a body, these hands were stucked with blood. Erik hadn't murdered only once. She trusted and hoped for that he didn't break his promise which he had given her once and that these atrocities had an end.

His voice had pulled her under a spell and it was also his voice which dismissed her from it roughly again and pushed her back into the reality of the cemetery.

"I don't have reckoned that you come."

She stepped hesitantly towards him.

"And what would I have been supposed to do in your opinion? It is too dangerous if you creep around the house at night. The servants could see you. Raoul would know it!"She beat her hands in front of the face at the thought on it. The idea, Raoul could discover that Erik still lay in wait for her, shook her deeply .

"Raoul...Is he good to you?"Erik felt the impulse to take her into the arm but he didn't dare to touch her. He leant against a tree and watched her furtively instead.

She nodded intensely.

"He loves me. He permanently tries to give me a joy with any things. I wouldn't like to disappoint him. And I have the feeling I cheat him."

Erik sighed. When she looked up, she discovered the golden ring which she had given him back that night on his little finger .

"You will get married . But you must be quite sure, my child. I wouldn't want that he makes you sad!"

She shook the head.

"He doesn't do this. He is so good to me. If I am sad then it's not because of him" She looked around anxiously as if she expects that Raoul has followed her or otherwise somebody watched her. "My God, it is simply ridiculous that we must meet here. Between all the graves, only because I feel safe here. I will marry Raoul and already now I have secrets like this here before him!"

"Why isn't he with you? He has promised to look after you!"Erik stepped towards her. The need to close her into his arms and to enjoy her proximity got stronger and stronger. Although she stood near to him, she seemed to be removed unattainably for him. Almost as she had at that time, when he had been the angel of the music for her.

Just when he wanted to raise his hand, Christine suddenly turned round hastily for the cemetery gate. Her eyes searched after a movement in the shade. When she discovered nothing, she turned to Erik again. The moment at which he would have had the courage to touch her had vanished and she seemed far away to him again.

"He waited in the coach. We must hurry, he will get restless if I am away too long. Why should I come? You watch me every night of outside therefore you see me. Why did you want to talk to me?"

Erik hesitated. He scratched his head while Christine looked restlessly around once more.

"I wouldn't want that they find you!"she whispered.

"Your voice, Christine. I must hear her. It is the only thing which still holds me alive. Do you want that I leave you alone? I then will go. But I die without your proximity, without your voice. I would like to see that you are well and watch over you. You want me to go? To disappeare from your life now?"

She didn't answer at once but when she did, a determination which astonished her, was in her voice..

"No, I don't want this . However... Where will I find you if I'll be looking for you? In the catacombs?"

Erik shook the head.

"No, it is no longer safe there below. Not within the next weeks after all events. I have found something fitting. I will come to you. Don't worry my child!"

"Please be careful! I ... I couldn't bear it, if something happens to you ... "With these words she turned away and disappeared in the darkness, during Erik looked afterwards her doubtingly. Had she actually just said this? Or had it been wishful thinking only once again, had he only wanted to hear that she said it? His hand closed in his cape and he looked after her, untill the darkness was swallowing her dainty shape completely.

If only she would know what had happened with him after she had gone and he had thought that it was for ever. She no shouldn't know it, should never learn which new precipices he had discovered, that the needle which once had soothed his pains from time to time had now become an inevitable thing to deaden his hate for the human race. Hate on these, who froced him to live life in underground, those who robbed him cruely, who had taken Christine away from him The doses had grown quickly within the last weeks and he knew he wouldn't be able control himself despite his promise one day any more. Then her proximity and her confidence cannot stop him once again to spill blood. Sighing he turned for going.

She had never thought that she would say these words to Erik sometime. When she came back to the coach, she was deathly pale. Raoul had just decided to follow her even if he risked another quarrel with that, suddenly she stood in front of him again. He was frightened, when he saw her and was annoyed at the same moment that he had gone alone and hadn't followed her.

"My angel, is everything all right?"

She nodded weakly and could be helped of Raoul to get in now.

"I am him missing so much!"she said quietly as they drove off.

Raoul smiled sympathetically and seized her hand because he thought at that time that she talked about her father.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Destiny shuffles the cards and we play._

_**Schopenhauer**_

The day of the burial broke. Christine had spent most time all alone in her room. She hadn't even permitted Raoul in her proximity. On the day of the burial, he somehow had succeeded in it to talk her into a coachtour. After she had gone, he went to his room and changed. He had given his coachman the order to keep her away of the Château and the family cemetery for a long time, that she was unable to notice anything of the ceremony. She had hardly spoken a word with him within the last days. First Raoul thought, that she still reminded their quarrel and so he tried to approach her for days without success. He really had worry about her, she had experienced terrible things and up till now she did not want to speak. And the fact that she had accused him to be responsible for Buquets death... He, who only wanted to save her life all the time! Protecting from this monster, that she could mention for inexplicable reasons at the name. But if Raoul was honest, she had made him thoughtful. What would have been if he really would have kept himself out of everything, as she asked him for?

_"I'm frightened to do this, Raoul. It is like I had to walk through the fire." _

He remembered the words so well. The words, she said when they forced her to play in "Faust" to trap Erik. If everything had been well, Erik would have appeared in his box, to hear Chrsitine sing and the Sûréte have made him harmless. Christine seemed to be the only one, who had doubts about the success of this crazy plan from the beginning. She had asked him to have to not do it and who he had put pressure on her.

_"If I appear, everything is gone!" _

That night Raoul had mused about this sentence for a long time. What should be gone and why was she afraid of it? They would finally catch the man who had extorted the opera management around a box and money, who had carried her off to his home below the opera and begged her again and again for months to stay and to assign Raoul. Wouldn't her fears have an end? However he was sure by now that it wasn't the fear of Erik, which has made her frightend.

Within all the years after her death he had got himself clear about it that even then she had been afraid to lose Erik for ever. If they had succeeded at that time to take hold of Erik, they would have killed him undoubtedly and she couldn't have borne this. But she was, this one suspected already much earlier than every other that Erik would take her even if it means to carry her off from the stage. And he finally also had done this. Would Raoul have listened to her at that time and given up his crazy plan, wouldn't Buquet ware still alive yet? Buquet which stepped in their way, to be absolutely fearless to block Erik the access to the stage? Would the police have caught Erik? Would this terrible night really have happened? Or had she been able to make ERik understand that she loved Raoul, with time? What would be if he would have never interfered? And Christine had besought him ... She had been so afraid, to play at these evening and Raoul wondered what had gone to him to ignore these requests - this fear in her eyes.

_"Now I am afraid of what I once wanted. He will find me and kidnap in his darkness. Raoul, it never ends and he will always there." _

Yes, he had ignored her fear ... and he had been incapable to recognize her secret longing behind it... And both, her ideas and her senses of Erik had caught him up to much soon again.

In the yard he heard the crunching of cartwheels on gravel and he took hastily a look to the outside. An equipage with the family arms of the Chagny. They were too early but this shouldn't disturb him. Better, they came already now, then the burial would be punctual and Christine would actually notice nothing of this. He had to protect her. If she felt better, he would tell her sometime that Phillipe hadn't gone away but had let his life in the catacombs below the opera. He didn't feel tell this to her in a position by now. The doctor had advised him, still to keep any excitement away from her, if he didn't intend to deprive her of the intellect completely.

He twitched with the shoulders and reached for the black coat, before he left his room and ran and the stairs to below. The two women who had entered scrutinized him interestedly, almost maternally when he came to stand near them completely breathless. Although they hadn't seen themselves already for over one year any more, they couldn't force themselves into any warm welcoming as it would have been usual under brothers and sisters. It was Amélie, who moved as the first and stepped to her brother. She hugged him stiffly and kissed his cheek, then looked at him from above to below and pulled the eyebrows up sceptically.

"Nice to see you, Raoul, mon petit. I only wished it would be more pleasant circumstances which would bring us together!" she sighed and started to smooth his coat, like she used to do when he had been a little boy. Raoul fended off only weakly and turned to his oldest sister who watched him with a strict look.

"And where is she?"she asked, saving any welcoming phrase. Raoul wrinkled his forehead, stepped by her side and kissed Hélènes cheek. The sharp undertone in her voice hadn't escaped him .

"She knows nothing of this. I thought it better, to tell it to her later. She is still too ill. I have sent her away with my coachman." he explained quietly, offering the arm to his sisters and led to outside. While they were walking slowly along beside each other the way to the cemetery, Raoul looked from time at the two. No Question, it was clear for erveryone that they were of a higher stand. Both wore clothes of the latest Parisian fashion. In his opinion, both looked a little too stylish for burial. Amélie was the small and younger one of the two sisters. Phillipe had often mentioned that she is the image of her mother. The Comtesse had died at Raouls birth and so he knew of her only of the portrait that could be found in the gallery of ancestral portraits. If he compared Amélie with it now, Phillipe had been right. Her thin, edged face disappeared almost completely in the shade of the hat, she carried, and she seemed much older as she actually was. Hélène was tall, a little firm and the only one in the Chagny line which had dark hair. With the black veil she reminded Raoul of his former governess in a strange way now. He shook the thought off.

"So you still host her under your roof?" Hélène finally found out pointedly. Her intonation displeased Raoul, but the little boy in him refused to oppose her and to answer the same sharp way. He nodded stiffly and turned the look on the stony way, ashamed just like in the past when she had rebuked him for a trick.

"Of course. I can have returned alone into her apartment Christine by no means. She is ill and the doctor thinks I must take care of her!"he declared abashedly.

A strange memory was coming up in him at this moment. As a little boy he once had found a young sparrow which had fallen from the nest. The coachman had explained to him, that the bird could survive with an a little care and Raoul had announced full of pride that he would provide personally. Hélène had kown to prevent this. She refused to take 'the dirty, ill thing' in the castle, she didn't even want that Raoul cared about it in the stables. He had to do more important things she said. Among those more important things had been learning the gallery of ancestral portraits for her. Even Raouls entreaty hadn't made her change her mind. "It doesn't fit one of your social stand to care about ill animals as if you are a middle-class, Raoul!" The sparrow had died.

Raoul blinked and shook the head. He wouldn't allow this time that Hélène decided whom he had to help or not.

"Raoul," Amélie threw in timidly, " It is surely commendable that you take care of this ill woman. I also understand that you feel connected to her in a way... but ".

"But what?" it slipped Raoul, " I feel not connected to her in any way - I love her!"

Amélie sighed deeply and cast an imploring look at her sister. This one cleared her throat and looked at Raoul insistently.

"Listen Raoul, you cling to an old child friendship. You know that even then it wasn't rational to concern with a farmer and his child."

"Musician", Raoul interrupted her for irritatedly.

Hélène wrinkled the forehead and shook the head confusedly.

"What?"

"Christine's father was a musician - a violinist." Raoul corrected her irritated, "you know this anyway. He has taught me for playing the violin at that time!"

"That's such a thing too!" Hélène said in rage, "Playing the violin!You had a good piano teacher and have never been interested in music until you met her.Raoul, now it is time to arise. You must understand that you have to forget this little singer!"

"Forget? I know know whether you haven't received my letters, ma soeur, but we are engaged. I will marry Christine!" Raoul pushed out and kicked a pebble furiously in front of himself. He felt that Amélie pushed calming his hand and called himself to calm down.

"Raoul, she is right." Amélie to his left hand said quietly, "The thing with this singer must be stopped. If she is a sensible, young girl, then she will understand this. She cannot marry you."

"Why not? My God, there is nobody who can dictate to me whom I shall love. And Phillipe has given it up to procure me with a noblewoman. I am old enough to be able to decide how my future will look on my own!"

"Seems that you're not!" Hélène interrupted him brusquely, "you won't marry this woman, Raoul. Phillipe itself was against this. Somebody like her doesn't have sincere interests in you ... only at your money. It would have serious consequences if you marry her."

"Do you threaten me?" Raoul exclaimed and stopped. He pressed his hand to the side and looked at his oldest sister provocatively. She shook the head as if she must discuss his faults with a small one, naiv child.

"If it has to, Raoul,... yes, " she finally sighed without evading his look, " if you marry her not only your reputation but the reputation of our whole family suffers from it. We are one of the oldest and most respected families in France. And you could have every woman. What do you think, what happens if you marry a middle-class one now? One will pull our name through dirt. I simply cannot allow this."

"And she would have nothing of marrying you, Raoul," Amélie continued now and looked at him pleading, "Look, if she would actually marry you now, she wouldn't even be entitled to the title Comtesse and your children also wouldn't have it. She will always remain the small civil."

"It's even better that way. If she marries me nevertheless, then I can be sure of that she really loves me!"

"Raoul, don't be so foolish!"Hélène ejected furiously and went the last steps to the grave at whichs side the coach already was with the coffin. "If you marry her, then we will have no other choice than to dissociate of you in public. Do you really want to give up your family because of to lead such a stupid marriage?"

Raoul twitched with the shoulders, stepped to the grave and cast a look at Amélie which went to them and came to stand besides Raoul now. Her big blue eyes looked at him pleading.

"Raoul, please think of it. If you don't do it for us, then do it for Phillipe! You know exactly he has thought just like Hélène and me. And it would hurt very much to lose one brother again!"

It hurt Raoul to her see like this, he completely turned to her, turned his back off consciously to Hélène and touched both shoulders of Amélie.

"It also would be aching to lose you - both. But letting Christine went away once again ... no. No, I will marry her if she still wants me. Even if this means that I then will have no family anymore!"

The priest appeared and the pall-bearers raised the coffin out of the coach. Raoul turned away from Amélie an the tears that ran over her cheeks now. Nobody would force him this time to do something he didn't wanted. How could they have the audacity to judge Christine whom they didn't even know? It was clear for him, what he would riks with this marriage, he had always known it, but this conversation with his sisters made him absolutely sure that he loved Christine enough to give all this up.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Haec aliis, ut, dum dicis, audias ipse._

_(Tell this to others, so that you hear it while you are speaking)_

_**Seneca**_

"So you think it is necessary to allocate a nanny for me so that I don't make any stupid things?"she asked angrily. Her dark eyes sparkled furiously. Raoul was frightened about her once more intense reaction to his well meant carefulness. What had he made wrong again now? He had thought to be able giving her a pleasure if he invited Meg during his absence. There were difficulties at the transfer of the gas pipes in the hunting lodge and he had to take care urgently of it since Phillipes tasks fell back on him now. The chateau lay on the edge of Paris and Raoul promissed himself not only a small diversion of the happenings of the last weeks but also a new home to which he and Christine wanted to move as soon as only they were married.

"No, my angel" he gave in, "for I only simply worry whether you can manage without me. Surely you don't need help, but after everything what had happened within the last weeks, I dislike it to see you alone. If you don't want me to help you, I thought, Meg would be good for you ." he hesitated and then completely broke off. She had turned the look to the outside again. She sat almost motionlessly in her armchair. Only from time to time, her chest hardly lifted and sank noticeably. He bit himself on the lower lip. How very much he had hoped Meg would take her off her lethargy to which she could entrust herself fully and completely... the best friend, anyway. He had apparently done the wrong thing once again.

He watched her for a moment and then sighed deeply, hoping she would notice it and look at him finally again. Nothing happened. Anyway she suddenly then addressed him. A deep determination was in her eyes.

"You should go now, Raoul. As fast as possible. It doesn't make a good impression, if you are late ... . and, if Meg already is here anyway, she can also come and talk with me just as well " she didn't talk further and so he kissed her briefly on the forehead, turned away and opened the door. She didn't even call him back to say goodbye to him now. No word passed her pale lips. How he wished to scream and shout with despair just in that moment. His look fell on Meg who had stood in front of the door. She looked expectingly at him and he nodded. Perhaps Christine would be more open to her, if she couldn't talk with him about the things that haunted her mind. With a helpless shaking head he turned away and shuffled the stairs to below. Christine hadn't even reacted to his kiss.

The coach which he had let prepare stood on the gravel way of the yard. If they couldn't be happy at this place, then why not in the smaller hunting lodge? Far away of the opera and the memories of the past. A small castle where she could forget.

His look strayed from her window. He hoped to see her hand waving there farewell at least only as a small sign that he wasn't completely unimportant for her. Nothing happened. He waited some seconds and then got into the coach, where he, for the first time, unseen from public employees or her, could spill bitter tears about her cool restraint. A move really would be the best for them both.

Meg watched Raoul unsurely, watched how he made his way down the stairs and apparent were completely lost in thought. After everything he had told her, she was afraid of the moment, meeting Christine again. It was days ago, when she had seen the friend last and she couldn't deny that she had needed this time to calm down again. Too much had happened.

When Meg hesitantly entered and closed the door closed behind herself, Christine turned round, for the first time away of the window, and smiled. Surprised she noticed that Meg looked pale as if she would have not slept the nights any more for a long time. Under her gray-blue eyes rings had appeared which almost were black. Her honey fair hair was tied as usual to a narrow knot. Christine didn't wonder for the first time if Meg wouldn't look even nicer if she doesn't wear her hair like this. Of course this was very impractical for a ballerina.

"Has Raoul let you come out of the opera?"

Frightened Meg looked at her and nodded slowly. Christine's voice sounded toneless and cool as if any feeling moved from her. What only had one done to her?

Christine sighed. "So he has actually dared to interrupt your private lesson! He must know, what this means for a chance for you. How important it is!"

Meg took her friend into the arms and pulled her to herself.

"Isn't tragic. Really!"she whispered and carressed lovingly the dark curls of the friend.

Christine closed the eyes. How very much she had longed for the friend. This was something, would which she would never admit before Raoul, she still had been irritated because of this visit a few minutes ago.

Meg who had always stuck on her, already from the first day on. Perhaps she simply had had only the feeling, Christine was too weak and must be protected by somebody. But it felt unbelievably good that Meg was there for her again, like three years agao when her father died. These were terrible memories. Pictures of the evening on which she wanted to show her father her contract as a member of the choir appeared before her eyes. For his whole life he had dreamt of seeing his only daughter standing on the stage of the Paris opera house. He should never see it. Father Daaé died that day on which Christine became member of the opera. From this day she seemed to have lost any feeling. Her voice, which was in the past so clear almost sounded lifelessly - yes nearly cold. One would have been able to think, that all her sorrow would lie like a chain around her vocal chords. That time Meg had already been there for her and she had completely forgotten almost how important the friend had always been for her. An ally, a protectress.

She pushed Meg gently a bit away of herself and looked searchingly.

"What's up, Christine... no don't tell me, what you tell Raoul or the other ones. You can pretend nothing for me!"

Christine came loose of Meg and got up. Her body was heavy and she felt empty and feeble. She laughed softly.

"No I probably cannot. Perhaps you know me better than any other."

Megs look got serious and she shook her head so intensely that some fair-haired strands fell from the knot and fall into her face. With a gesture that seemed mechanicaly, she draw them behind the ear. "Don't avoid me. I know what has happened that night. What really happened. Christine, I was there below!"

Christine looked at her attentively. She hadn't known this. She had known actually nothing at all of what had happened after she and Raoul had left the catacombs. She touched Megs hands, which were icy-cold and she looked at her with shiny eyes.

"You were there? Please Meg, you have to tell me what has happened there below. Everything what has happened there below!"she pleaded.

Meg hesitated as if she has fear to continue talking. Only when she caught Christine's look, she seemed to decide to go into her entreaty.

"I saw how you rowed away with Raoul. I was the first one, who entered the lair of the phantom in the vaulted cellar vaults. And I have met the Persian who asked me to hold back the people. Christine, I don't know why I did it, however I have helped this phantom to get the flight that night. I know it is irresponsible, after everything he has done to you, but mother has taught me that no man has earned the death if God doesn't determine it. Please forgive me!"

Christine couldn't do any other than take the friend, who had tears in the eyes stood, into the arms. Meg probably had talked to somebody about these experiences for the first time.

"Oh Meg! No, I don't have to forgive you. I must thank you that you have saved Erik the death. The time I had to think they killed him, I thought I couldn't survive either." Suddenly she let herself fall back into the armchair with a peculiarly content smile, and her eyes shone happily. "I also would like to tell you something now. But promise me, that you tell nobody something ... even not Raoul! Primarily not him!" She serviced only a second fraction before she continued: "Perhaps it was a week after we had returned out of the catacombs. I stood there as I did every evening" -- she indicated with her narrow forefinger the parapet of the balcony -- " and looked into the garden. And I suddenly recognized his shadow. I knew, at the same moment I saw his shadow that he had hadn't been killed by them. He simply stood at the old oak tree, into which Raoul as a little boy has carved his name, and looked up to me. My heart rejoiced and it got simultaneous consciously to me how dangerously it must have been for him to come to me in these times. I feared to show his presence to someone and went back to my room to switch off the light which fell into the garden. When I stepped back on the balcony, he had disappeared and I thought I only would have imagined it. But he stood under my balcony in the next evening again and looked up to me. He was there from that day on every evening without saying something. I didn't know what should I do. How I liked to go with him, leave everything behind me only to be with him. But there was Raoul, who worried about me... he has done so much for me. I simply couldn't go to Erik. What I would identically have done, I would have betrayed one of them, and so I even didn't talk with Erik. I would best of all have died. I have longed for him so and then when I could be sure that he still was alive, I was not able to go to him and to show him my feelings. Suddenly he suddenly didn't appear anymore but I found a message of him on my balcony. God knows how he has reached it. The message only was that he must see me at father's grave. I hid the letter before Raoul and the employees and burned it the next morning when the maid lit the fire in the fireplace. And he actually waited for me at the grave of my father. He has saved my life. If he hadn't appeared any more, I surely would have been out of my mind."

Meg who was shocked by this confession tried not to let Chrsitine realize. Now she thought to understand why Christine sat at the window day by day and looked outside. She only hoped apparently to see Erik. She nervously bit on her lower lip.

"This is it what Raoul fears. He has to see everey single day how you slip away from him. He worries about you. I don't assume that you have told him that this Erik has appeared again?"

Christine shook the head.

"I know, that he makes thoughts to himself of me. But now when Erik is near, I don't know wheter I still can be together with Raoul any more. Perhaps I should decide for Erik now."

Meg cracked and looked at Christine horrified. She put a hand on the shoulder and said very quietly and insistently: "This would be his death. You would betray him if you decide against Raoul now. Christine, the police have completed the examinations. Joseph Buquet is officially responsible for everything... the extortions and fall of the chandelier. He then has hung himself in his despair. Don't look at me like this! It is better if the police think something like that. They then don't continue to examine. Everything has a conclusive explanation at the moment. The whole extortions, accidents and murders...if you go with Erik and leave Raoul because of him, they will surely look for him again ... No matter whether you tell Raoul that Erik still lives or not. What has Erik told you? Surely not to come back to him, after it was him, who has sent you away with Raoul! And you want to oppose him now?"

"What murders, Meg?"

"Carolus Fonta, Joseph Buquet and Raouls brother." Christine's facial expression told Meg that she had apparently had no idea. The paralyzing feeling of guilty conscience immediately spread. "Hasn't Raoul talked about it? Oh -- me and my loose mouth! Mother would wring my neck ".

"What is up with Phillipe?" Christine interrupted her brusquely. Every kindness had disappeared from her face again and it had become again to a rigid white mask which frightened Meg.

"They have found a male corpse on the shore of the underground lake, a day after the occurrences in the cellar. He wore the signet ring of the de Chagny. Raoul has identified him and wanted to bury him on the family cemetery. Haven't you read from it in the newspaper?"

"I read no more newspaper. I was afraid, one would report of Erik." Christine got up and went with slow steps to the wardrobe, laid out her black cape and gave Meg a signal to follow her. Meg didn't like the friend that way. The last time she had been dressed black, had been when her father had died dressed so black. After this Christine had worn black almost three years. Till the angel of the music had suddenly appeared to her one day.

Christine had entrusted Meg that her father had told her a fairytale once. It was all about a girl to whom appeared one of God's angels at night and taught her the singing. Because of the Angel of music this girl became one of the greatest singers of the country. Father Daaé had promised his daughter, if he should die, he would send her this angel from heaven. When she had heard the voice of this angel in her wardrobe, she had radiated a luck which Meg had never seen at her before. At the same time, Christine's friend of youth Raoul whom she had lost years ago from the eyes appeared again, and Meg thought that the downward spiral of the friend was ended. Now she was looking almost like at that time now.

They passed through the garden and reached the family cemetery when it already dawned. Soon, Raoul would be back.

Members of the Chagny family had been buried on the cemetery since generations and there was especially a gardener who was responsible only for the care of these graves. Raoul had told this to Christine once fully of pride. She, however, found this a little strange, since she cared about the grave of her father personally.

They stopped in front of a very fresh grave which one could easily recognize by the grounding hill - only a few days old.

"Therefore he has sent me away with the coach . I didn't even know Phillipe at this. He was always so strict and inaccessible. This has frightened me. Perhaps I would have liked him, if I had known him better..." Christine stammered.

Meg cleared her throat and looked at the friend seriously.

"May I ask you something? Raoul told me that you can bear no more mirrors. What does it have on itself with that?"

Christine twitched helplessly with the shoulders and turned the look on the almost dry flowers on the grave.

"I didn't bear the thought, that Erik through none of these mirrors to me would come back . and, every time if I saw myself in them, I seemed to me like a wretched liar who keeps her true feelings secret in front of everyone."

Meg wanted to put an arm around her when she noticed a shape behind the bushes. She pushed Christine's hand a little more tightly than intended. Christine also had noticed the shadow for herself, that approached with slow, almost unresolved steps. Meg turned pale.

"This is him?"

Christine nodded. What only did Erik induce to appear on Raouls estate again? It was more than dangerous. She had thought he wouldn't be so reckless to take the risk once again to be discovered. She averted the look and gripped both hands of the friend.

"Please, Meg, would you go? And promise me to tell Raoul nothing about it. He may learn nothing from Erik! Under no circumstances !" Her swearing intonation surprised Meg because she wouldn't have considered in the dream circumventing her friend.

"I swear it at my life!"She kissed Christine's cheek briefly and then disappeared in the half-dark.

A muffled laughter resounded behind the bushes. A tall shape soon afterwards appeared. Erik.

"The little Giry. I would have had to thank her. I'm glad that she still worries about you!"

Christine looked at him. He seemed really happy. His words sounded, as if every single of them would be music. She actually was astonished by his manner, which she was not used of him.

"You have killed Phillipe de Chagny!"she said, without beating about the bush. She let her voice sound a little harder and sharper than necessary, only to show him how he had hurt her with that. He made not even the attempt to contradict and nodded. No 'Forgive me' not any word of regret, only a nod. No_ 'I didn't want to break my promise to you.' _If only he would try to defend himself Everything would be better than this silence.

"Erik why? Hadn't you promised me never to kill again? Hadn't you promised it to the Daroga either?" Her voice was quiet and full reproaches.

It gave him a sting to have her disappointed.

"It necessaried protect me. And my lair. That night too many people have come behind my secret, too many entered my lair. They destroyed it. Phillipe de Chagny would have never given up as fast as his brother ".

Christine twisted the face. At least he spoke with her now. His silence was almost as terrible as the power of his voice. Simply only seeing and not being able to hear him. His words inspired the rage which she had had under control at Megs presence. Why only had Raoul circumvented her? She furiously bit on her lips and then told him, what she couldn't hold back any longer.

"Raoul hasn't told me about it! He sent me with a coach through Parsi instead, to hold a secret burial." She indicated the fresh grave with the forefinger.

"I assume, he wanted to spare you . " Ot semmed starnge to hear these words from Erik's mouth. He looked at her disapprovingly. "Please stop biting your lips, you make me quite nervous!You know quite exactly that I don't bear it if you do this!"

She ashamedly looked to the ground, moistened her brittle lips with the tongue and then looked at him stubbornly.

"He ought to have told it to me. How can I marry him if he has secrets like this from me already now?"

He luaghed this strangely melodic laughter, like the ringing like numerous little metal bells and a bass simultaneously.

"Oh Christine, don't you conceal something very important from him either?"

She wanted to reply him something, then broke off, and looked at him a while. He spoke to her again as if he was her father. Why did he defend Raoul who he should hate? Why was he right? She hated, if he was right with things that annoyed her. She decided that an answer would be little meaningful.

"Where do you live?"

He smiled under his mask. So she changed the topic again. In principle, she did this since he knew her. And it amused him. He would usually have insisted on the old topic now, to see her struggle to find the right counter-arguments which he then let burst like soap-bubbles. Oh, how he loved these games. No, he left it at this today. He didn't know how much time they would have left. It already had started to grow dark, perhaps he must begin the retreat soon.

"I will be very near you soon. Be able to be there for you day and night if you need me ".

"The hunting lodge?" It slipped her out.

He nodded. The catacombs were no longer for safe, anyway he knew he would have to return there in no too long time again. But this was not allowed to know her. She didn't learn, that her proximity wasn't the only thing any more of what he was hopelessly obessed now.

"I have designed my lair below the opera and architects are very bribable. This hunting lodge is rebuilt after my outlines and I have found a new home in the little house next-door ", he explained so quietly to her without letting her from the eyes. The servant house, simply ridiculous.

"You are crazy!"

"No! Don't you understand? If we cannot be together in any other way, this is the safest possibility. No torture chamber, no traps. You will always be able to see me any time if you wish."

Christine who didn't know whether she should be happy now, really came to conclusion that Erik had been out of his mind about her loss and the loss of the only home which he had had ever now.

Raouls voice got her out of her numbness. He seemed to have called her name already repeatedly and his voice got louder the more he called for her.

"You must go quickly, you mustn't be found!"

But Erik already had disappeared, when she pronounced the words, and few seconds later Raoul stood at her side.

"I have looked for you. So you know it . " he indicated the grave of his brother.

She nodded stiffly. Now that she really knew that Erik was still whole in her proximity, she was capably of no tendernesses and made way for Raouls arms. He interpreted her rejection wrongly and suspected she behaves only in such a way because she is angry with him.

"You are furious... I understand you. Believe me, the doctor thought you might not get irritated and I have told you nothing about it, only therefore. I could have not keeped it away from you any longer. Please forgive."

"You simply have sent me away," she ejected and looked at him reproachfully, " you probably didn't want either that your sisters meet me. They surely were there anyway, isn't that right?"

Raoul blushed up to his hair and extended his hand toward her helplessly. But she didn't react to it, only watched him with a strict look. He finally nodded.

" Forgive me. I really thought... "

"Are you ashamed of me?"she interrupted him quietly.

He looked at her doubtingly.

"What?"

"Are you ashamed of me? That I am only a simple singer whom you cannot show your family?"

He shook the head horrifiedly and seized her hand without allowing that she could withdraw it from him this time.

" Of course not" he whisperded, while the word shreds of his sisters haunted his mind. "I don'T mind what the others might think - I don't want to lose you once again!"

She forced herself to a smile which Raoul induced to take into his arms and kiss her happily. She couldn't make way for him and she somehow owed it to him after all the rejection. She heard a familiarly sighing behind one of the bushes.

"Have you heard this also?" Raoul turned up. This noise. It was far too familiar . Familiar from those nights of fear. Those nights in which they both like two anxious children had clasped on the opera roof, ready to flee.

She hardened and gave him an only forced smile now.

"You must imagine this. It will have been an owl."

He shook the head and looked at her inquiringly. Was it possible that his intellect played him a trick now? After what he had experienced, this shouldn't surprise him... he had lived in fear for months that one snatched Christine from him again, he had been finally almost killed? He dreamt of this strange mirrored chamber, its one knotty tree with the lasso, every night. He couldn't simply forget what happend, though he tried it every day for her. His thoughts were filled with Erik and the fear that he wasn't dead, that he would stand in front of him one day again and would try once more to set his life an end. He shuddered and sought her look. She simply also had to have heard it.

She frantically tried to withstand his look. He wasn't allowed to realize something. His fear that was written to him so clearly into the face escaped her completely. Too much she pretended the smile which should calm him.

He shook the head and moved a bit closer to her, like a child who frightend chooses the proximity of the mother.

"No owl, Christine. I know this noise. And, my God, how afraid am I, of the moment the horror will catch us up once again. I'm fear the moment he return and take you finally away from me" He coverd his eyes by the thought and turned away.

An icy shower broke in Christine. She had never also made only thoughts on herself what it really could mean for Raoul to lose her to Erik. She had to make himself temptedly that Raoul regarded her as a kind of trophy, one is not glad to have it for the opponent. She gently touched his arms. First for long time she felt something from the feelings for this boy which she had already with fourteen had on the beach of Perros Guirec again. Or was it pity? Pity, because she treated him so coldly? Because she circumvented him while he only tried to read her every wish of the eyes?

"Don't be afraid, my dearest. How could I leave you for a dead man?"

Again a quietly sighing. Why only couldn't Erik simply go or be silent at least? He would reveal himself.

"Oh how I hate cemeteries. Since that night in which he came and attacked us. You were surrendered almost completely to him. What shall I do if he comes back and fetches you now?"

"Erik is dead, Raoul. He will never strike you again, only in your dreams. First he still will frequently and soon you will have already forgotten him."

He pulled her to himself and breathed in her smell. Warm and sweet.

"And what is with you? Will you ever forget him?"

She couldn't lie to him, pulled him only more tightly to herself and shook the head gently.

"He will always be there in me. I will never forget his voice and his music will be always in my head."

They slowly started to leave the cemetery. It was a starry night. Twined narrowly they approached the castle, let the shades and Erik behind themselves. But Raouls fear had remained.

"Is there nevertheless the possibility that you will marry me?" His voice sounded exceptionally hoarse and deep. What should he do, if she left him? Could he bear the thought that Hélène could have been right with her assumption Christine would only love him because of the money? If she left him alon with the fear of what had happend? Without his family, without real friends, without her? What would be left for him?

She sighed when she noticed his serious look.

"Raoul, I have given you my promise".

"It isn't about any promise, Christine. I only would like to know, if one day you will be able to love me more than the memory of this man..." _'Or if you love will for myself'_ he added in thought to know. Oh, he knew that it was so, he had never been so sure . But would a violated count be enough for her, one without a family, without actual music intellect? After she had lost the perfect man... a genius on so many fields, musician, magician, architect.. he never also master only one of these things half as perfect.

Tears came to her eyes. Why did he ask her something like that? Couldn't he simply live with the promise that she would marry him? Why did he confront her with this decision now once again?

"Raoul"

"No, I wouldn't like to have a woman who shall represent me. I then also could have married all other noblewomen Phillipe suggested to me at that time. If you become my wife I would like you to become it completely, Christine ."

She forced herself to a smile. Her hands clasped into each other looked unnaturally small in the moonlight.

"I love you, Raoul. And I trust you. Isn't this enough for you as an answer?"

He stopped and contained her both hands.

"I would like to have children with you one day. I don't want that they must suffer from the feelings of her parents. You are the only woman, that I have loved ever, but I couldn't bear it if I force you to a marriage if you loved me only like a brother ..."

Christine thought by herself, that he also could just as little bear to lose her to Erik. She didn't want to hurt Raoul, and she also had Megs words in her ear. But she had never made thoughts on children to herself until this moment. She was only twenty-one anyway. And Raoul was just as old.

"I will marry you, Raoul, if you don't force me to something. I would like to be able to sing, when I wish to and I would like to be able to decide whether I enter a stage once again. I know, that it doesn't fit for a noblewoman... ", she then heard herself suddenly saying. But these weren't her words. It appeared to her as if it was Erik who had put these words in her mouth. He wanted that she married Raoul because he couldn't offer her a safe future, but he wouldn't want that she neglected her gift because of this marriage either.

She shook the thought on Erik off and turned to Raoul which inquiringly looked at her instead.

"If you like to, you shall be able sing. We could engage a song teacher so that your voice remains practiced. And I will have a piano room fitted out only for you. There is a lovely room, a story under yours. One has a wonderful look to the lake!" That enthusiastic lights, that she knew already from youths appeared in his eyes. How bad she felt just at this that moment! What kind of woman was she to lie to this man, who so obviously adored her? But the fear to reaveal Erik was much bigger than the fear of a marriage of which she wasn't even sure that she wanted to lead her. So she wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed for the first time that he overwhelmed her face with stormy kisses.


End file.
